Her Big, umm, Heart and Treacle Tarts
by OogieBoogie
Summary: Why do all heroines have to be either slim or skinny? Enter Rose – a buxom, hefty, and curvy woman with body image issues. And she is crushing on Harry Potter with all her breasts – she would say heart, but her breasts are bigger.8th Year Fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**Bunch o' wizards belong to J.K. Rowling. Story's mine, la di da di da.

**Rating:**M for later chapters.  
**Summary:**Why do all heroines have to be either slim or skinny? Enter Rose – a buxom, hefty, and curvy woman with body image issues. And she is crushing on Harry Potter with all her breasts – she would say heart, but her breasts are bigger.

8th year fic.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

"You need to cut down on those treacle tarts," Pansy Parkinson yelled across the Slytherin table during lunch, a rather irritating smirk adorning her face.

"Shurrup!" Rose yelled back with her mouth full, and she swallowed the rest of her fourth treacle tart.  
"She may be overweight," Blaise – who was sitting opposite Rose – countered, pointing at Pansy, "But you're ugly. She can lose weight."

Anyone who was near enough to hear Blaise's comment laughed, all of them ignoring the way Pansy's face twisted into infuriation. Blaise winked at Rose and she grinned, shaking her head. Rose proceeded to gulp down her pumpkin juice.

_True enough_, Rose thought,_ I just can't seem to muster the willpower to continue dieting months after months. Mine only lasts for weeks. Okay, less than two weeks. Alright, alright – hours._

"Maybe you really should lose weight," a voice came from Rose's right, which nearly caused her heart to jump out of her rather ample body. Rose turned to meet Pansy 'Pug-Face' Parkinson. "I mean, look at those arms," Pansy then proceeded to jab at Rose's arms which were hanging loosely by her sides, "_Muscles_, eh?"

_How 'bout I show you how strong my muscles are by breaking your jaw?_

Rose shrugged her poking finger off violently as Pansy and her two _shadows_ (girls with no type of personality whatsoever) broke into high-pitched giggles. Rose gathered herself and pretended to brush imaginary lint off her shoulders and arms (where Pansy's fingers had been).

"You just had lunch, didn't you?" Rose began, turning to look at Pansy innocently, "What was it? A pea? Off you go now, isn't it time for you to throw it all up in the toilet?" Rose fluttered her eyelashes exaggeratedly for dramatic effect – which made Blaise choke on his juice and start coughing and chuckling simultaneously. The three offending girls immediately stopped laughing, and Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly looking miffed.

"Fatso," Pansy leaned in and spat, before turning on her heels and walking towards the Great Hall entrance, her two moving-decorations in tow.

Rose exultant smile faltered, and her face fell into that of hurt and dejectedness.

_Stupid Pansy. I can't help that I love food too much!_

"It's okay, Rose," Blaise assured, squeezing her hand, "You are beautiful, don't let anybody tell you otherwise."  
Rose made a noncommittal sound and sighed heavily.

"You keep telling me that," Rose said.  
"Because it is true. You have monster curves, Rose. And what does Pansy have? Nothing. She doesn't even have a brain, yes?"  
Rose let out a bark of laughter at that.

"Curves are beautiful. Just because magazines and the – what's it called – _vellytision_?"  
"Television," Rose corrected.  
"Yes, that, portray slim, lean bodies doesn't mean you aren't as desirable, you know. Some men love curves."  
"And I haven't met one that does yet," Rose countered, "Besides you, of course."

Blaise was silent for a moment.

"_Yet_," he finally said, "Keyword being 'yet'. So don't torture yourself, despite Pansy's emotional abuse."  
Rose made a humming sound of agreement.

"So, no starving yourself?" Blaise asked, looking at her suspiciously.  
"No," Rose answered, "Definitely not."  
"Good, because that is unhealthy. And no skipping meals?"  
"No."

If Blaise was asking another question regarding her meals then (or lack thereof when she is in those I-need-to-be-skinny moods), Rose was no longer paying attention. Because at that moment, the person who filled her waking moments and nightly (probably _dirty_) dreams decided to walk into the Great Hall.

Harry Potter sauntered in, the same way that he always does for as long as Rose could remember (or rather, for as long as Rose had harboured this huge crush on him).

_And dirty thoughts about him_, her traitorous mind supplied helpfully.  
_Shut up!, _she told her mind, while she regained her focus on watching Harry Potter's arse – ahem, watching Harry Potter walk towards his seat next to Ron Weasley and opposite Hermione Granger.

He had an assured air of a man, full of confidence. He was no longer the scrawny, underfed boy Rose had always thought when she had first laid eyes on him.

"That's Harry Potter?" Rose had asked during the Sorting Ceremony in first year, "He looks so, so …"  
"Annoying," young Blaise had finished quietly.  
"- Malnourished," Rose had said. She had looked twice Harry Potter's size, then.

Well, she would still look twice Harry Potter's size now too, had he not grown into _ooooh_, a man. He had filled out nicely; his face was no longer sharp and pointed but smooth and chiselled, and his shoulders were no longer breakable by the mere touch of Rose's little finger – they were now broad and strong, due to years of Quidditch. True, he was no longer The Boy-Who-Lived or The Boy-Who-Would-Never-Die-No-Matter-What, he was now The Man-Who-Killed-Voldemort, The Saviour of the Wizarding World.

Had he been food, Rose would have definitely eaten him up long ago.

_I would like one Harry Potter, smothered in chocolate and rainbow sprinkles, please!_

Rose unconsciously licked her lips at that.  
"Oh, yes," she whispered.

"Yes? Are you mad?" Blaise hissed at her, "You would take those Witches' Diet Pills? No, Rose, just no!"  
"Huh, wha -?" Rose blinked, and looked away from Harry Potter. He was blocked by Blaise's irritated face anyway, "What were you saying?"  
"You – did you hear – Rose?" Blaise asked, raising his eyebrow at Rose's attempts to look over his shoulder multiple times, _completely _ignoring him.

"Sorry, Blaise," she finally turned to Blaise. Blaise was _too _tall. Yeesh. Busy blocking her view from a scrumptious green-eyed Harry Potter.  
Blaise turned around and slowly turned back to Rose, shaking his head.

"Mmph. Potter," Blaise said.  
"Oh, yes. _Potter_," Rose purred, grinning madly – ignoring Blaise's bewildered look.

He knew of Rose's _unhealthy _crush on Harry Potter, of course – it was as unhealthy as her eating habits. Heck, that was an understatement. Her eating habits were far healthier than her crush on Harry Potter.

"Are you ever going to tell him that you are mad for him?" Blaise regarded her with a bored mien.  
"Of course not, are you mad?" Rose laughed, shaking her head.  
"No, apparently you are, and for him."  
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I will tell him."  
"Why not?"  
"Because I'm fat," Rose said nonchalantly.

It was always easier and funnier to call yourself fat, but it doesn't have the same effect if _somebody else_ did it, and Rose was totally aware of that.

"You are _not_ fat, for fuck's sake. You're voluptuous."  
"A fancy word for fat, same difference."  
"Embrace it, Rose. You are what you are."

Rose almost grimaced at that. She never did completely like the way she was, and she had given up a long time ago trying to lose the excess baggage. She tried embracing her curves as well, and she had started off fine, but the awareness of other people around her being either slim or skinny or having an amazing fit body – and had no trouble buying clothes off the shelves – swallowed her pride of having curves.

She just tried not to give it much thought – that is until Pansy Pugfaceson comes along and shouts it in her face.

It didn't help that her ex-boyfriend had suggested that she go to the gym (he was a half-blood) to _tighten_ up a bit, and was subsequently caught snogging the living daylights out of a pretty, slender girl last year.

"For all we know, Potter might like curvy girls," Blaise waggled his eyebrows at her.  
Rose laughed.

"Impossible! Look at the girls he's dated, Chang and Weasley, both of them had fantastic athletic slender bodies," Rose sipped her juice, "Doesn't exactly scream curves, you know?"

Blaise gave her a pointed look. Rose ignored him, as she watched Harry Potter stuff a treacle tart into his mouth before leaving the Great Hall hurriedly with his friends, saying something about Quidditch practice. She watched him with goo goo eyes.

Yes, she was crushing on him – big time. She was crushing on Harry Potter with all her breasts – she would have said heart, but her breasts are bigger.

"Whatever it is, no diets, yes?" Blaise instructed her firmly.  
"Yes, no diets, sir."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

She was on a diet the very next day.

_Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hung-geeeeeeeer-reeeeeeee._

She had skipped breakfast and lunch earlier that day, and she was now half naked – with only her bra and knickers on, standing in front of her full-length mirror in her dorm.

She looked at her reflection in dismay and began to examine herself. Her fingers skimmed her sides, feeling every bump of her tummy, hips and everywhere else that Rose calls _road-bumps_.

"Oh, Merlin," Rose sighed, gathering a handful of tummy fat and squeezing, "I need to get rid of this. This diet needs to continue!"

_Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry_, her mind seemed to remind her every second.

"Yes, I know you're hungry, but no. You need to lose all this!" Rose told her reflection.

_Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry_, her inner mind's voice was beginning to sound like a zombie.

It was already time for dinner, and she promised Blaise that she would join him for dinner before making their way into the library to finish off their homework. She made a mental note to only have – don't know – soup, perhaps?

Yes, yes, only soup. And garlic bread, perhaps. Yes, yes. Brilliant.

_Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry._

"Yes, I know!" Rose snarled at the mirror and gave her tummy a small slap.

She strode into the Great Hall, keeping an eye out for Blaise. He waved at her and she plonked herself down opposite him.

Blaise gave her an once-over and immediately started glaring at her.

"What?" Rose asked, her eyes widening.  
Blaise glared at her for a few more seconds before answering, crossing his arms, "You're on a diet, aren't you?"  
"No, I'm not!" Rose said, her voice suddenly becoming high-pitched.  
"Yes, you are. Did you take a look at yourself in the mirror?"  
"Why, yes, I did. Before I came down here, I inspected the areas that needed -"  
"No, no, no," Blaise growled, looking extremely crossed, "Did you see how your face looked in the mirror?"

She was about to answer "gorgeous as always without even looking into the mirror, if I do say so myself, why do you ask?", but she only shook her head.  
"Do you know how I always seem to know whenever you're on a diet?" Blaise asked, sighing heavily.

Again, Rose shook her head.

"It's because you'd be insipid-looking."

Rose unconsciously touched her face.  
"I do?"  
"Yes, very insipid. No rosy cheeks, no bright and lively eyes."  
"Oh."

_Hmmm. That poses a problem. Note to self: Whenever on diet, use a lot of makeup to avoid looking like Death._

"Now, eat," Blaise stuffed her plate with her favourite food and planted it right in front of her. She literally salivated and had to take a deep breath to suck in the drool and swallow.

"B-but -" Rose began, but Blaise gave her a warning look.  
Rose sighed, defeated, and picked up her fork and stuffed a small piece of chicken into her mouth.

Oh. _Sweet._ Jesus.

Had she not been in public she would have taken the whole plate and gulped it all down – _all of it_, the plate included.

And then she would spit the plate out, all bright and sparkling clean – just like how Garfield does it.

"Good?" Blaise grinned.  
"So good," she said, stuffing more chicken into her mouth.

Blaise shook his head and began eating from his own plate.

Just as she was about to grab more (diet plan of only having soup and garlic bread failed, obviously), Harry Potter's arse – ahem, Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall, late as usual.

Rose's eyes flitted all over him, until his back was towards her, and her eyes feasted on his behind.

_I can't help it, I mean, it's only natural if you're facing someone's back_, she reasoned with herself.

Harry Potter has a nice arse.  
It looked tight, and firm in those sinful jeans that hugged it so exquisitely.  
Harry Potter's arse was extremely _'grab-able'._

_Very nice, a very sexy shape – as opposed to my cottage cheese arse, _Rose thought.

"Staring at Potter's arse again?" Blaise asked.  
"Yes, did you know that his arse -"  
"I don't," Blaise cut her off, "Want to know about another guy's arse."  
"But it's _so -_" Rose waved her hands and gestured around, trying to perfectly define the shape of Harry Potter's arse.  
"Nope," Blaise said firmly, effectively stopping her in the middle of her Harry-Potter-arse-worshiping.

They finished their dinner and walked to the library.

"I still don't know why you won't just tell the git that you fancy him," Blaise said, as they dropped their books and bags onto a table near the end of the library.  
"We've been through this so many times," Rose sighed, as they both walked to one of the shelves to get a certain book on Charms that Flitwick said would help them with their essays.

"But you never know unless you try," Blaise said, getting into his Mr-I'm-So-Full-Of-Advices role.  
"Nah, I know already," Rose said, tracing the lines of books that she passed by, mindful of that certain book's name should she come across it.  
"Oh yeah?" Blaise stopped, and Rose also stopped, facing Blaise. He grabbed a book from one of the taller shelves and handed it to Rose.  
"Yes," Rose answered, and she scanned the title of the book. It was the book they were looking for, "Yes, I know already. Nobody here likes curves, Blaise. They want a girl who's slender and tall and slim, and – and – and -" Rose waved her hand around, "And someone who can just pick random clothes and it would _definitely _fit them without having to try them on, you know? Someone who can eat and eat but never gain weight. Someone who's really easy to lift, someone who doesn't have rolls and spare tyres around the tummy or anywhere else for that matter."

"That's not true," a voice from behind Rose spoke.

Rose turned around and her eyes met emerald ones.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Potter," she blurted before she could stop herself.  
He grinned at her guiltily.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I just overheard you two talking while I was coming here to get the book Flitwick recommended us," Harry Potter said.  
Blaise grabbed another copy from the shelf and threw it at Harry Potter.

"Thanks," he said, catching the book easily with Seeker reflexes.  
"Potter, eavesdropping?" Blaise smirked, "So tell me, Potter, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

At that, Blaise gave her a slow look, before returning his attention to Harry Potter.

Rose swallowed and she heard it loudly in her own ears.

"Well, you know, I have always had an issue with the whole weight thing among people in general nowadays," Harry Potter started.  
"Oh?" Blaise said.  
"Yeah, because I happen to love how big women look."

Rose's eyes widened and Blaise resisted the urge to go 'HA!' in Rose's ears.

"I mean, it's all perspective. It's based on opinion, I suppose, and when it comes to my opinion," he paused, and looked at Rose for a brief moment, "I think the sort of voluptuous, voluminous bodies are a lot sexier than a sack of bones with fake stuff."  
"I see, Potter," Blaise said, and nudged Rose lightly, "That's a breath of fresh air, isn't it, Rose?"

_Huh?_

"Say something," Blaise said whispered through gritted teeth. She looked from Blaise to Harry Potter, and Harry Potter looked expectantly at her – waiting for her to say something.

Umm …

"I like treacle tarts," Rose blurted.

_What on earth? _Her mind shouted at her.

Harry Potter blinked at her, before his lips started to form a slow, lopsided grin. She began to blush.

"Me too," he said.

Her mind was still panicking, and reprimanding her for her previous brainfart.

_Apparently everything that goes into my mouth seems to make me fat, and everything that comes out of my mouth embarrasses me._

"They're …" she trailed off, "good stuff."

"They are," Harry Potter nodded and smiled.

_Well, at least you know he likes treacle tarts too._

"Well, let's get on to our homework, shall we?" Blaise suggested, and they all nodded and made sounds of agreements before walking away.

As soon as they were far from Harry Potter, and as soon as Rose's heartbeat calmed down, Blaise started laughing.

"What's wrong with you?" Rose asked him, recollecting the closeness of Harry Potter a few minutes ago.  
"What the hell was all that about? 'I like treacle tarts', really?" Blaise laughed and clapped his hands.  
"Ah, I don't even know, don't ask," Rose shook her head, trying to forget that ever happened.

They sat down and began with their homework.

When she and Blaise had finished with their essays, they walked to the library exit where Harry Potter and his friends were seated nearby.

Rose looked at him, and surprisingly, he was already looking at her.

She gave him a broad smile.  
And he smiled back.

"Goodnight," Harry Potter wished her before she disappeared through the door.  
Rose's was taken aback a little before she warmly wished him goodnight in return.

"Well, there you go. You heard him," Blaise said cheerfully as they reached the dungeons, "He likes curvy women. You have no excuses now."

**:3 **

***shares chocolates with readers***


	2. Chapter 2

Rose rolled her eyes for the tenth time that morning.

"Stop looking at me like that," Rose warned Blaise.  
"Like what?" Blaise asked innocently for a second, before immediately returning to that condescending look.  
"That! You've been at it the whole day and I can't seem to figure out why, and that is making me angry," she said.  
"Oh, you know why …"

Rose had indeed known why he was giving her those looks the whole day. After all, it was a day after Harry Potter's revelation that he, surprisingly, did not object to the idea of fleshy women. And as much as that was likened to clouds making way to glorious sunlight after a terrible storm to Rose, she wasn't sure what to do about it, and she wasn't even sure whether she should do something about it in the first place.

_Why should I?_

"Aren't you going to do something about this Potter revelation?" Blaise asked.  
"Like what?"  
"Talk to him, ask him out, get to know him – I don't know, just do something about this! This thing, this opportunity was thrown right into your open arms, Rose. So come on. It's about time."  
"About time? It's only been a day!" Rose looked at him incredulously and laughed.  
"A day, of course," he looked at her with narrowed eyes, "I was talking about this absolutely maddening and crazy infatuation towards Potter – how long have you had it for?"

_That_, certainly wasn't only for a day. It had been going on for _months_. She was probably halfway in love with him already and she hadn't even spoken to him for more than three minutes. To make matters worse, he was constantly in her dreams. And in aforementioned dreams, they were always of the … sensual nature. Dreams of them snogging the daylights out of each other (though for some reason whenever Rose kisses dream-Potter's lips, his lips would have the texture of gummi bears and she would constantly be scared of kissing them off. Occasionally though, during those really intense times, she did kiss them off. And then she would wake up.), them fiddling with each other's buttons during kisses against the walls of Hogwarts after hours and dreams – oh yes, _those _dreams where her hands would be skimming, skating and tracing through his shoulder blades while resting below him, him in between her legs – rutting, bumping, _grinding_ … and she would wake up with a sense of loss, a strong feeling of longing, and of course – let's not forget the heat and ache between her thighs.

"Rose."

_What is the point, really? It's not like he would ever look my way or take a second look at me. I can't even bear to see myself naked, what makes Blaise think that Potter would even appreciate that image – of course, assuming that we get to that stage, even. Oh, what am I saying? We'll never reach any stage because this is definitely a lost cause from the very beginning. I'm just …_

At that thought, the image of Rose's idiot former boyfriend kissing another girl came to mind – replaying like a shit drama episode. It stung. Her chest permeated with a painful throb and Rose pursed her lips.

_Just not good enough._

"Rose!" Blaise called, this time louder.

Rose sighed. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again, smiling at Blaise sweetly.

"What would you have me do, Blaise?" I turned to him right in front of the door of next class, "Go up to him and say 'Hello, Harry. For these past few … for these past many months, I've realized that I seem to have developed an intense fondness towards you – a crush, if you may call it. And after having heard your revelation that you actually don't mind chunky girls like myself, I thought – hey, why not? I like you, and you like chunky girls so … yeah, how about a date sometime?"

Blaise was grinning from ear to ear, eyes shining.

"That was brilliant. Now do you think you'll be able to remember what you just said word for word?"  
"Well, I could always write it down and practice for I don't know, never? Because I think it won't – _oomph!_"  
Before Rose could finish her sentence and before she realized what had happened, she was unceremoniously pushed by Blaise and landed hard in someone's arms, before falling onto the ground with said someone.

"Whoa!" said person cried out at the impact.

Rose immediately lifted her head from the person's chest and looked up, into … _devastatingly green eyes.  
Harry Potter._

Immediately, her heart went batshit crazy and started leaping so hard she was afraid he'd be able to feel it against his chest despite the thick layers of their clothing.

"I, I, I umm … I'm … well, you, I," Rose began but failed, and ended up stammering gibberish into Harry Potter's amused face, "I … I am -"  
"Sorry?" he grinned.

Rose regained her bearings at that.  
"Yes, yes, I am so sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to knock you off your feet."

Rose, realizing her double-meaning sentence, began blushing furiously.  
Potter, of course, took no notice of the other meaning of her sentence, and laughed good-naturedly.

"It's alright. I suppose now you'd want to get off?" he asked, staring straight into her eyes.

Rose's eyes widened at that and almost gasped.

_Harry Potter, how straight to the point!_  
Rose continued to stare at him in surprise, at his suggestion of wanting to _get off_! Oh my, oh my, oh my!

Potter raised his eyebrows and smiled.  
"Well?"  
"What?" she asked, her eyes unable to avoid from flickering between his eyes and lips.

_I wonder if they really are like gummi bears? Would they taste like it, too?_

"Well, I could stay under you all day -"

_Again, with the double meaning! How very suggestive!_

"But we really need to get to Potions before the Snape punishes us all, don't you think?" Potter grinned.

Just then, as if somebody just hit her at the side of her head with a hammer – she realized that she was being an _idiot!_ She was imagining the suggestiveness, like her usual _idiotic _self!

"Oh, right! Right, right, right!" She began to get up from him, on the verge of scalding her face from the heating of the absolute embarrassment.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid Rose!_

She held out her hand to him once she was on her feet and he took it – a strong, firm, grip as he lifted himself.

"Thanks," he grinned again, dusting his robes.  
"I'm sorry, Potter, I just -" Rose picked up her books and handed Potter's ones to him. She looked around for any signs of Blaise. He had disappeared. The nerve of him. Sheesh, "Blaise just, I don't know what was wrong with him, he just kind of pushed me."  
"Oh?" He looked at Rose amusedly, "You two get on really well, don't you?"  
"Yeah, we do … I mean we're best friends and all."  
"Just best friends?" He smiled, arranging his books.  
"Yes, I don't think of Blaise that way, that'd just be weird – plus, I'm more interested in yo -"

Rose stopped herself before she could blurt the word 'you' and make it one of the worst and unluckiest days of her life.

"In … in yogurt," she finished lamely.  
"Yogurt," Potter repeated.  
"Yes."  
"Interesting. You really like food."  
"I do, can't you tell?" She said wryly.

He grinned that grin again.

"Let's get to class, Snape's coming 'round the corner."  
"Alright. Later," Rose nodded and left with her head hung low, ready to give Blaise a great big smack.

As predicted, she did give Blaise a great big smack and she was unable to concentrate on Potions that day. She had her head in the clouds, all the while staring at the back of Potter's unruly, sexy, jet black hair – and watching his fingers flex and clench around his hair.

"So, a rest before seeing you for dinner in two hours?" Blaise told her as they exited the classroom at the end of the class.

"Right, right," she agreed, imaging the plethora of food that would appear right in front of her eyes for dinner.

Though, nothing looked as good as the image right in front of her.

Which was Harry Potter.

Making his way towards … her?

She looked around to see that nobody was near hear, including Blaise who had fled into his den in the common room.

So … Harry Potter was …?

"Hello, Rose," Potter grinned.  
"Hey, umm … Harry," she said, confused. "Potter."

He shook a book in his hand before handing it to her.  
"Hmm?" Rose asked.  
"Well, earlier on when we collided, I realized that I accidentally took one of your books – I already had a copy of Divination in my bag so obviously this one's yours."  
"Oh, right! Thank you," Rose nodded and took it, smiling at him gratefully.  
"You're welcome," he said.  
"I'll see you at dinner, then," Rose said.  
"Definitely."  
"Right," she ducked her head and turned around, feeling extremely self-conscious about her gigantic arse.

_Walk properly. Walk properly. Walk properly._

"Rose."

She turned towards Harry Potter's voice from behind her.  
"Yes, Harry?" she asked his form, still standing in the same spot.

"A date sometime, would be nice, like you said," Potter grinned, "I'll see you soon."

With that, he turned and walked away – oblivious to what was unfolding right behind him.

A jaw had dropped all the way to the floor.

And it was Rose's.

He had heard her earlier on.

_Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. He heard me. _

**:3**

**Reviews please!  
*bakes cake for readers***


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay!

But hey, this chapter goes out to a certain reviewer who goes by the name Taraa – there's a reason why this is called 'fan fiction' … don't like, don't read – and don't diss.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

It seemed that Blaise had developed this new hobby called 'Rose-Watching'. He never tore his eyes off Rose for more than a minute, mentally pressuring her into succumbing into his questions.

Rose also happened to develop another new hobby called 'Blaise-Ignoring'. She looked everywhere else but Blaise, carefully avoiding his inquisitive chocolate-brown gaze.

It was a battle of the strongest of wills.

"Rose," Blaise called during breakfast the next day, "Rosie."  
"Hmm?" She hummed in reply, but didn't bother looking into his eyes.  
"What are you waiting for?"  
"I'm not waiting for anything," Rose sighed, reaching for a glass of milk, "I'm simply refusing to look at you in the eyes, lest you mind-torture me into doing something I don't want to."

"Excuse me?" He scoffed, and then laughed sarcastically with his hand over his heart, "_Excuse me? _Listen to you, could asking Potter out on a date be really something you don't want to do?" He finished by laughing again and shaking his head, pretending to wipe a non-existent tear at the corner of his eye.

"In case you haven't noticed," Rose hissed and leaned into Blaise, finally looking at him in the eyes, "I've already indirectly asked him out on a date."  
"Right and he said yes. But did you follow-up?" Blaise raised a dark eyebrow.  
Rose snapped her mouth and proceeded to stab her toast with her butter knife.

_Follow-up. How does one go about following-up about a date? What does one even say? In case you haven't noticed, Blaise, I'm rather shit at this._

"Come on, Rose," Blaise said gently, "You can do it. Just march right up to him and ask if this day and this time would be okay for your date or not."  
"I'm scared," Rose replied, suddenly clutching Blaise's hands and sinking her nails into them. Ignoring Blaise's slight jump and slightly pained expression, she continued, "What if he changes his mind? What if it was a joke – a _let's say yes to the fat girl, poor thing must not know what a date is at all_ thing … or what if it was because he pitied me, and when we get to our date, he tells me I'm not his type at all?"

"Rose, Rosie," Blaise untangled his hands from her deadly ones and patted hers gently, "If he thought all of that, he would have said no from the beginning."  
"Don't be biased," Rose countered.  
"I'm not!" Blaise exclaimed, "You know me! I'm the bluntest and most honest person you'll ever know, why would I hold back from you?"  
"Because you're my best friend," Rose said quietly.

Blaise smiled at her and ran his thumb over her cheek.

"I know, and for that very same reason, I'd want you to be happy. And if going around with Potter makes you happy, then by all means go. Far be it from me to hold you back."

At this, Rose glanced at Harry Potter, who was - her heart stopped – who was already looking at her.

When she caught his eyes, he smiled a little, looked down at his breakfast and continued eating. Rose turned back to Blaise, who was giving her wry smile.

"What?" She asked.  
"Look at you, moon-eyed and blushing all over."  
"It's the blusher I applied this morning …" Rose said lamely.  
"Right, and you applied it all over your nose, and forehead as well too, hmm? Now will you get a move on and ask him?" He raised her hands and dropped them in mid-air, making them land with a loud noise.

Rose glanced from Blaise to Harry and back to Blaise again before sighing heavily and standing up.

_Ah, what the hell, right?_

She smoothed down her robes and tucked her hair behind her ears.  
She began to ask Blaise, "Do I -"  
"No," Blaise said without even looking up at her.

_No, you don't look fat._

Rose stepped out from her bench and started walking nervously towards the Gryffindor table.

_You look fine. You look fine. You look fine._

She bit her lip and threw a nervous glance over her shoulder at Blaise, who nodded supportively.

She was approaching that familiar unruly mop of black hair, and she so wished she could escape at that very moment – because surely he'd notice anytime now – and he did, and he looked up from across the table, not looking surprised at all – and gave her a megawatt smile – and she was already standing right in front of him.

"Rose, hi," Harry grinned at her warmly.  
"Umm, hi, H-Harry," Rose said, her nervousness almost making her cross-eyed as she glanced at his two best friends – who were eyeing her in surprise, "Hey, Weasley … Granger."

They all nodded at each other and it got really quiet. Rose took a deep breath and looked at Harry again.

"I, umm, h-how are you?" Rose concentrated on Harry's collarbone.  
"I'm great, Rose … and yourself?"  
"Nervous," Rose laughed a little and finally glanced up at Harry, who was smiling affectionately at her.  
"I'm flattered," Harry smiled even wider, getting what she meant completely, "But don't be nervous. It's only me."  
"It's you, that's why I'm nervous," Rose muttered under her breath, not missing Harry's laugh at that, "Well, I just wanted to ask you about the umm, you know, the – the -"

"Our date," Harry finished for her, still smiling.  
Her chest lurched almost painfully at that and she nodded, concentrating on her shoes.

_God, this is embarrassing, right in front of Weasley and Granger nonetheless!_

"Tell you what, I'm actually on my way to Quidditch practice right now – but I'll owl you the day and time, how does that sound?" Harry suggested.  
"Oh, I – yeah, yeah, that'd be nice," Rose agreed, and immediately turned and left, the embarrassment and nervousness too much to handle all of a sudden, and she was pretty sure that her face was as red as a tomato even as she was walking back to her table.

Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder.  
She turned and came face to face with Harry Potter.

"Why'd you leave so fast?" Harry grinned.  
"I, err, dunno? I'm sorry, I'm just not my usual self right now 'cause -"

_Cause you're so bloody delicious and I can't stop thinking about eating you_.

"I know, but I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it."  
"Huh?" Rose asked dumbly.  
"I appreciate the effort, you coming over to my table and all. It must've been hard, but I think that's really sweet of you, and I appreciate it."  
"Oh. Okay."

Then she saw Harry lean forwards towards her, and felt something warm and tingly on her left cheek.

Harry Potter gave her a kiss on the cheek.

And a brilliant smile after.

"I'll owl you," Harry said, before turning and leaving the Great Hall.

Rose walked frozenly back to her seat at the Slytherin table, not caring who was watching at that very moment – because she was too shocked and probably too red to process anything, even Blaise's cheeky look.

"I take it that things went well?" He smiled slyly.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Rose took in a deep breath and sucked in her tummy.

"I feel like this blouse is too tight," Rose informed Blaise, who was busy matching her outfits on her bed.

"No, it's not, it looks brilliant – if you just believe!" Blaise said exasperatedly, holding up two blouses at the same time.

"Blaise, I can't do this," Rose said, and began worrying her lower lip.  
"Yes, you can, Rose," Blaise said firmly, "Come on, you've got one more hours to get ready, and you're going to look amazing."

Rose glanced at the small piece of parchment stuck to her mirror. Written on it, in Harry's mess of handwriting was '_Saturday's Hogsmeade Trip, 12pm. See you there.'_

She proceeded to turn herself sideways and look at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't like how thick she looked even from the side, and the way her arse seemed to be sticking out there, as if trying to escape and say 'HELLO!'

Before she began lamenting on how nice it would be to have a slender frame, Blaise pushed clothes into her arms.

"Try those on," he commanded.

Rose followed without any protest and came out a second later.

"You look great," Blaise grinned toothily, "Now go."  
"But I want to look into -"  
"No, no mirrors for you. You're only going to get all sad and depressed and ruin probably one of your greatest days, so you'll have to trust me," Blaise insisted, pushing her out the door.

Rose turned and gave him a look.

"Rosie, trust me. You look brilliant. And if he doesn't think so later he's a complete dunderhead and he's … well, going to die," Blaise nodded as finality and proceeded to push her out of the dungeons, "And don't ever, ever think you're fat. These idiots need to stop telling you the wrong things."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

The date went brilliant, save for the fact that even after their lunch date, Rose was still a quivering mass of nervousness. She hoped to the highest heavens that Harry would think she was shaking because of the cold, not out of nervousness. As if he knew what was running through her mind, Harry asked her.

"Are you cold?"  
"Me? Cold? Not at all, I've got a whole lot of fat here to keep me warm," she blurt without thinking.

_Oh, shit_.

Harry laughed out loud.

"I see. You should keep me warm as well, too," Harry smiled and turned to look at her while they walked aimlessly after lunch.

Rose's eyes widened and she blushed, effectively warming her face some more.

_Oh I will, Harry. You don't know what runs through my mind._

But Rose decided to go for something innocent.

"Yeah sure, I can give you a warm hug if you want," Rose shrugged, smiling.  
"You think that'll work?" He grinned cheekily.  
"Well, if it doesn't work, you'll just have to wait a little while more – my presence should be enough to warm you up," Rose blurt again without thinking.

Harry gave her an impressed look and started nodding.  
"Too true," he agreed.

Rose blushed at the fact that she had just been blowing her own trumpet about being _rather hot_, and Harry Potter had just agreed that she was indeed, _hot_.

_Oh, well_.

They got along rather well, with Rose making 'fat jokes' and Harry Potter laughing at them every time. Truthfully, she didn't know whether Harry Potter truly enjoyed her company or was just being nice – because he's Harry Potter, he's always nice – except towards Voldemort.

She, for a fact, knew that she truly enjoyed his company and would like _more _and _more _of it, and even physically felt her crush towards him grow impossibly bigger (if it was possible), and having the urge to kiss him every time he opened his mouth to say something.

_Rrrrr._

By the time they were done - getting candies, butterbeers and all kinds of food that made Rose really happy besides the fact that Harry was with her - they had to walk back and they reached the castle just in time for sundown.

Harry had walked her back to the dungeons – sweet sweet Harry, bless his soul – and Rose didn't want the day to end at all.

"Well, Rose, I had an amazing time with you today," Harry grinned.  
"So did I, we should, umm," Rose cut herself off … _would it be wise to suggest that we –_

"Do this again," Harry finished for her, nodding, "I really enjoyed myself."  
"Yeah," Rose grinned.  
"Well, goodnight then," Harry said.  
"Goodnight, Harry," Rose said, and an unexpected rush of _something_ ran through her and she stepped up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Then she fled, red as a tomato and spilled into the dungeons – face to face with a smiling Blaise.

"I take it that things went well?" Blaise said, and Rose almost laughed at the fact that he's said that twice already.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

The following weeks went well, Rose as happy as ever – though still insecure and trying her very best to hide her excess baggage – still with the ever-failing 'I want to eat less but I end up eating more' diets, Blaise tempting her with her favourite food when she refuses to eat, and well – an addition this time, her time with Harry Potter.

They met frequently in the library, discussing anything and everything. They also went out to Hogsmeade often, and every minute spent with Harry, Rose found herself falling for him more and more.

Rose liked him, a lot. Even more than treacle tarts lately.

Even Blaise had noticed that instead of looking longingly at her favourite tarts, she now channelled the same look towards Potter.

And if Blaise dared to think, Potter's been sending the same look towards Rose when she wasn't looking.

Despite shivering with disgust, he couldn't help but smile at the glow on his best friend's face.

**:3**

**Reviews please! *gives readers sweets***


	4. Chapter 4

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, hey, Blaise," Rose turned around and saw Blaise lounging around in one of the couches in the dungeons, "I'm just going to go send this off to my parents at the Owlery. Want to come?"

"Nope, I'm perfectly comfortable here," Blaise grinned and stretched.  
"Alright then, I'll be back in a bit," Rose said promptly and left the dungeons, an envelope held tightly in her hands.

Now making her way up to the Owlery was indeed a feat for someone like Rose.

"Stairs … so … bloody high … tired … already … physically unfit …" Rose muttered to herself as she fought to catch her breath.

"Shit!" she rested against the wall for a few minutes before proceeding to walk into the Owlery to choose a suitable owl. It was noisy, full of hundreds of owls flying and screeching about and some were staring at her as soon as she entered and she couldn't help but feel judged.

One grey owl at her nearest right was staring at her, unblinking, and she resisted the urge to slap it.

"What?" she asked the owl.  
The owl said nothing, and continued to stare at her.

"Umm, you know what? Could you help me?" she asked it.

She could've sworn that she saw the owl roll its eyes before making its way to her arm and landing on it none-too-gently.

"What's got you in a snit?"  
The owl rolled its eyes again and offered one of its talons for her to attach the letter to. She gave the owl the address and it flew without even waiting for her to finish.

"Stupid fucking owl," Rose realized that she was also in a snit because of the owl.

She was about to leave the Owlery when she heard footsteps a rustling sound behind her.

Her heart jumped and her stomach was doing cartwheels as soon as her eyes recognized who stood at the entrance of the Owlery.

"Harry," she greeted, eyeing the untameable black hair, the devastatingly green eyes and the lopsided grin.  
"Hey, Rose," he said, "Fancy seeing you here."  
"Yeah, was just sending off a letter."  
"Oh yeah, I'm also about to send a letter out to Teddy."  
"Alright then, be careful when picking an owl though, they all seem to be grouchy today."

Harry raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Are they really? Or did you do something?"  
Rose raised an eyebrow this time, "Really, Harry?"  
He laughed. "I'm joking, Rose. Here, help me pick an owl."

Rose shrugged and walked towards the sulky white-and-grey owl staring out the window.

"This one looks like it wants to go out," Rose suggested and poked said owl. The owl turned to look at her and narrowed its eyes.

_Hey, calm down_.

"You too? Geez, loosen up!" Rose hissed at the owl, just as Harry came over, eyeing her suspiciously.  
"Umm, okay?" He looked at her and then at the owl.  
"It's glaring at me!" She pointed at the owl.

_It's looking at me as if it's saying, "You're fat, go away". _

Harry raised his hand and stroked the feathers of the owl and its head, and it closed its eyes contentedly.  
"This thing right here? Naw, look at him," he smiled at the owl, who clearly was enjoying the attention.

"Or maybe owls just hate me in general," Rose huffed and crossed her arms, leaning against the wall as she watched Harry attach his letter to the owl's talon.  
"Of course they don't, you're just imagining things," Harry said calmly, sending the bloody bird off and watching as it flew away.

"I can imagine a lot of things, but certainly not owls looking at me, judging me," Rose said stubbornly.

At this, Harry turned towards her and smiled.  
"Oh? Pray tell, what can you imagine?"  
"A lot of things," she repeated, feeling a little nervous under Harry's scrutiny.

_Like how your kiss would feel like, how you would taste like – that I can definitely imagine. Teehee!_

"Give me an example," Harry pressed on.

"You," Rose said bluntly, looking at someplace else besides Harry.  
"Oh?" He grinned and began taking steps towards her.

Rose swallowed audibly.

"What about me?" He cocked his head sideways and sent her a sly grin.

By this time, Rose's heart was beating abnormally fast she was worried she might have finally got high blood pressure or hypertension or whatever it is overweight people would most likely succumb to.

She can't bloody well remember medical terms when Harry-sodding-Potter was all up in her atmosphere at that very moment, and coming closer and closer – almost nose to nose, and with him looking at her like _that_.

"Rose?" Harry prompted again, this time right in front of her, so close that her nose was almost touching his chest.

"Yes?" She almost whispered breathlessly, her heart pounding in her ears.  
"You never answered me," he said.  
"I, well, umm, what?"

She was very confused at the time.

"I asked you, what do you imagine about me?" Harry grinned.  
"About … kissing you?" Rose hated the fact that that sentence ended up sounding like a question more than a statement – but she couldn't help her voice and the pitch it suddenly decided to adopt.

"Really," Harry said quietly, dipping his head lower and lower –

And they were definitely nose to nose now –

"Yes, really," Rose answered, every nerve every pore _everysinglething_ in her body holding its breath, pausing, at a standstill, waiting for –

So close that she could feel his breath wafting over her face now –

Waiting for his lips –

He stopped halfway, and she took it as a cue for her to close the remaining space between them, and she leaned forwards, and –

_SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEECH!_

Rose nearly jumped out of her skin and she fell backwards, against the wall again as she looked around for the source of the sound.

One of the owls decided to show just how much in a snit an owl can get that day by flying around like a lunatic and screeching as loud as it could, practically scaring the living daylights out of Rose.

Well, now that ruined the moment.

Rose was about to look at Harry, and say something idiotic – say anything really, to make the situation less awkward –

"Meh, stupid owl, scared me half of -"

But Harry was having none of it.  
He swooped in and claimed her lips, regardless of the interruption a few seconds ago, and kissed her.

And it was a slow, languid, passionate kiss – it was perfect.

Despite the screeching and protesting owls up above and around them, Rose felt as if everything was on mute – and she could only _feel_.

The warmth of Harry's lips, Harry's arms as it wrapped around her, the feel of Harry's eyelashes tickling her cheeks – and then she tasted Harry.

Harry tasted like apples, like oranges, like grapes and everything sweet – as if he was feasting on these delicious fruits before coming up to plan and kiss Rose's breath away. And funnily enough, somewhere between Rose trying to dissect what Harry truly tasted like, treacle tart was definitely somewhere in there.

They pulled away at the same time, with Harry still lingering enough to brush his lips against hers. He lifted his hand to stroke her flushed cheek, and she could feel him smile against her lips.

"I like you, Rose," Harry whispered, "I like you a lot."  
"Me too," Rose answered, "A lot more than treacle tarts."  
"That's a lot," Harry grinned and Rose laughed.  
"You know it."

Harry, with his lopsided grin, dipped his head to reacquaint his lips with Rose's again.

The next few days, while Rose was lounging around by herself at the courtyard, Harry came out of nowhere and stood next to her.

He laced his fingers with hers and leaned in towards her, both of them still looking onwards.

"Want to be my girlfriend?"

Rose smiled.  
"Okay."

**:3**

**Reviews please! *gives cookies to readers***

**Next Chapter sneak peek:**

"**Looks like you two won't make it back to the castle at this rate – snow's pretty heavy, you see. It's dangerous," the nice old man said to Rose and Harry.  
"So, what do we do now?" Rose asked.  
"Well there's an inn just opposite here, why don't you two stay over and wait until the weather's cleared out before making it back to the castle? I'm sure your professors would understand," he nodded.  
Rose blushed and gulped, glancing at Harry. Harry looked serious, but Rose didn't miss the glance he sent her way.**

_**Spend a night at the inn together?**_

**DUN DUN DUN! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**So sorry for the extremely delayed post! There was something up with my account, wasn't able to login until now (due to some miracle), and now I'm able to post all pending chapters. **

**It's a little too late but Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! **** Here's the last chapter! M for a reason, teehee!**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Rose had been incandescently happy since she began dating Harry, and started to giggle maniacally to herself whenever the term '_Harry's girlfriend' _came to mind. They had learned many things about each other – the most surprising fact about Harry that Rose had discovered was that, contrary to popular belief, Harry does not style his hair at all, he was born with untameable hair and there was nothing he could do about it. She had then confessed that it was nice and that she always thought Harry looked like he just shagged someone into the after-life. Harry had turned to her with wide eyes before throwing his head back in uproarious laughter. She was pleased to have caused such mirthful laughter.

Harry on the other hand, found out that despite being in Slytherin, Rose had an unusual capacity for kindness, gentleness and was rather emotional. He watched with a small smile as Rose eyed puppies and other animals whenever they pass by the pet shop with watery eyes. He didn't even stop her quest that one day when she heard mewling coming from a drain nearby. She had forsaken the usefulness of her wand, jumped in straight and picked up the kitten before bringing it to a pet shelter, giving it up with reluctance.

She had resorted to pinching herself many a time not being able to believe her luck, that someone like Harry could ever want a hippopotamus like her. Alas, the world became more treacherous with their own ideas of beauty and flat tyres were nowhere near as attractive as high cheekbones and _collarbones _("Do I even have those?" Rose found herself thinking one day).

Rose had given up the idea of dieting, staring at the mirror for long, and found that the extra time she had not fretting over herself were used better in _simply being_.

She almost thought that she was finally and totally comfortable being in her own skin – save for the times where intimacy was involved. Oh, there was _nothing _wrong in that department at all. Of course, there were the occasional – well, frequent – rendezvous with Harry, heated snoggings and quick gropes when nobody was looking but that wasn't enough to relieve the obvious tension (so strong and hard you could cut it with a knife, Blaise had said once) between Rose and Harry.

Harry was a gentlemen, bless him, he never pressured her into anything. He would just simply nod in understanding whenever Rose's hands shot out to stop the motion of his hands and kissed her lingeringly. He never said anything or brought the topic up and at times Rose felt relieved … though these days, she started to worry that maybe Harry was getting frustrated and that his patience was wearing thin only he refused to show it. Hell, Rose was frustrated herself but she couldn't muster the courage to expose so much of herself to the intense scrutiny of those vivid emerald eyes.

What if Harry expected a mind-blowing body beneath those robes, and that when he saw the real thing, it would not compare to the one he sees in his dreams? What if … _what if_ …

She began to over-think things like she usually did, think it to death and see what happens, and even thought about dieting all over again just for Harry, but she was sure Harry nor Blaise would appreciate that. After all, Harry had said, "You are fine the way you are to me."

Just the memory of that conversation made Rose gleeful and so giddy it made her feel like launching herself into cloud-nine or into Harry's arms and ravish him silly but then she knew she would never be so daring as to just rip her own clothes and stand in front of him in her naked, colossal glory.

"Want to drop by Honeyduke's?" Harry had squeezed her hand, and breaking her from her musings and back to the present time where she was currently on a Hogsmeade date with Harry.  
"Of course," she grinned.

_Great. More sweets, more sugar, more fat! God, this isn't going anywhere! I will always be fat and Harry wouldn't want me and –_

"You okay?" Harry turned to look at her, eyes filled with concern.  
"Yes, Harry, I'm fine," she squeezed his hand in return before they both entered Honeyduke's.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Merlin knows how long they were in there for, trying sweets and buying more – Rose was sure Harry was on a mission to get her on a sugar high.

Harry was so adamant in making her try all his favourites that by the time they were finished, they were the only ones left in the shop.

And it was snowing – really heavily outside … with strong winds from the looks of it.

Rose was beginning to think of ways she could make it back to the castle without _rolling _her way into it and embarrassing herself, until the owner of Honeyduke's came out from the counter to peer out the window with them.

"Looks like you two won't make it back to the castle at this rate – snow's pretty heavy, you see. It's dangerous," the nice old man said to Rose and Harry.  
"So, what do we do now?" Rose asked.  
"Well there's an inn just opposite here, why don't you two stay over and wait until the weather's cleared out before making it back to the castle? I'm sure your professors would understand," he nodded.  
Rose blushed and gulped, glancing at Harry. Harry looked serious, but Rose didn't miss the glance he sent her way.

_Spend a night at the inn together?_

"What do you think?" Harry asked.  
"I'm fine with anything," Rose said, swallowing her nervous tone and replacing it with a calm one.

_Well, at least I wouldn't be rolling back to the castle. And I would spend the night curled around Harry … with Harry's warm body … wrapped around mine –_

"Oh, shit," Rose hissed.  
"What's wrong?" Harry turned to her.  
"Oh, n-nothing, just that the snow just got heavier," she covered smoothly.

Harry glanced out the window and nodded, but it was as if he wasn't even concentrating on the snow.

"Well, you both best get yourselves to the inn in front before you get snowed in and I don't think you'd be comfortable spending the night on these floors surrounded by sweets," the owner had said.

A couple of months ago, Rose would have said that that was her only fantasy. But at the moment, wherever Harry was that was where she would happily be.

"Let's go?" Harry asked.  
She nodded and grabbed his hand before muttering her thanks to the owner and running past the open door with Harry.

She was greeted with biting cold wind and almost knee-length snow. She would have toppled over trying to catch up with Harry and turned herself into a living Popsicle if it weren't for Harry's steadying hand.

_Maybe Harry would prefer a Rose-flavoured Popsicle?_

Before she started to complain that the journey to _just opposite Honeyduke's _was like climbing Everest, they stumbled into a nice, cosy building warmed by the burning fire in the fireplace.

"Hello, dears!" the innkeeper had greeted them warmly, "Putting up for the night?"  
"Yes, please," Harry said, brushing snow off his coat and Rose's as well.  
"Well lucky for you lovebirds we have only one room available!" she chirped, clapping her hands – oblivious to the fact that Rose and Harry were students from Hogwarts.

"Umm, brilliant. We'll take it," Harry said, fishing out Galleons from his pocket.  
"Well, if you will sign here," she pointed out to a piece of parchment and opened the drawer to reveal just one key, "You may find your room just after taking the stairs up."

"Thank you," Rose managed, trying to blame her nervousness on the almost-gone chill of the weather.

The innkeeper smiled at them before they both made their way up the stairs, both adamant on not catching each other's eyes.

They both entered the room, peeking quietly before moving inside completely. The room was surrounded by red velvet curtains and there was a quaint, made and inviting queen-sized bed perched in the middle, with a bedside table and a lamp which lit dimly, making the whole room seem … _romantic_.

Rose blushed furiously and she shut the door.

"Looks cosy," Harry grinned before dumping himself onto the bed, arms behind his head as he shut his eyes and grinned leisurely, reminding Rose of a cat.

Rose found his grin contagious and she leaned against the wall timidly, hands cushioning her bum. Her mind was entirely blank at the moment, and the only other thing she was aware of was the heavy thudding of her heart against her chest.

She watched Harry as he made himself comfortable. As if he knew he had eyes on him, Harry's own opened and he looked at Rose. He got up and sat at the edge of the bed, smiling widely. He beckoned her to come closer.

"Come here," he said softly, holding out his hands. Rose, without any hesitance, moved forward and took his hands, allowing herself to be pulled close to Harry.

"Hi," Harry said, once she was standing in between Harry's legs.  
"Hi," she answered, pushing his hair away from his forehead with her hand. She then proceeded to unwind the scarf from Harry's neck and threw it against an armchair, and began unbuttoning Harry's winter jacket.

_Where is all this courage coming from?! _shrieked her brain. Rose idly ignored it while she watched her fingers work the buttons. Her fingers were shaking, though she wasn't sure if it was from the chill anymore.

Harry's jacket joined his scarf on the chair and before she thought furiously about _what _or _where _to unbutton first, Harry caught her hands with his. He brought them to rest gently by her sides before his hands went up to take their turn at unwinding her scarf. Rose watched Harry's face, watched as his face was set in calm concentration as he threw her scarf aside and began working on her jacket.

Soon enough, they were only dressed in their normal, cottony clothes and exchanging small, flittering kisses. Harry – Rose did not know how he managed it, but he did – pulled her straight into his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist before claiming her lips once more. They kissed leisurely, with no haste, just tongues dancing with each other languidly.

Rose knew what was about to happen, and the knowledge of that turned her brain into over-fried scrambled eggs that she gripped the edges of Harry's t-shirt so hard she could have ripped it open.

The alter-ego in Rose screamed in delight at the prospect of ripping _everything _off Harry.

Harry pulled away and chuckled, "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing," she breathed, still gripping the edges of his shirt mercilessly until it crumpled terribly.  
Harry looked down towards where her fingers were gripping and looked up back at her before raising his arms above his head. Rose took it as a signal to remove his t-shirt.

So she did, revealing golden skin and broad shoulders and Quidditch-honed stomach. She almost groaned at the sight if she was not so focused in wondering what to do next.

She felt fingers steal underneath her blouse, and felt Harry's warm fingers stroke the sides of her waist soothingly and it sent tingles down her spine.

One of his hands moved to rest fully and completely on her lower back underneath her blouse as he pressed his lips against hers again and she swore she felt the warmth of his hand heat up every nerve ending of her body like an electric circuit.

She drew in a long breath and pulled away from Harry's lips.

"Rose?" Harry asked, looking vulnerable without his glasses. Rose wondered idly where and when it fell off.  
"I just," she traced his nose with her index finger and blushed furiously, "I just don't know if -"

She was scared of course. Not scared of being with Harry – but scared of exposing herself completely. What if Harry didn't want her after? And like her earlier musings, what if Harry felt that she did not meet his expectations?

Harry smiled.  
But it was a sad sort of smile. Understanding, patient, yet sad. Very Harry. It nearly broke Rose's heart.

"I, I just," she tried, eyes beginning to water.  
"It's okay, love," he kissed her lips chastely, "We don't have to do anything."

With that, the warmth of Harry's hands and fingers were gone and he brought his arms back to her shoulders and squeezed gently.

"Harry, I -"  
"Shh, it's alright, Rosie," he grinned, "Whenever you're ready. Why don't you go do your … whatever womanly duties you have before bed. I think we'll have to head out early in the morning."

Rose took that as a dismissal and began disentangling herself from Harry, before walking slowly to the bathroom feeling like world's biggest ass.

She quietly shut and locked the door, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

_Silly, silly Rose! You want this, don't you?!_

_Of course I do want this, I want this more than anything in my life, _the other voice in her head retorted waspishly.

She glared resolutely at her reflection in her mirror.

_So why don't you just grab it and take it instead of feeling sorry for yourself all the time. Harry wants you just the way you are, why can't you accept the way you are?_

She brushed her teeth almost angrily and washed her face almost as angrily before she towelled everything off.

Rose began to remove her jeans and socks and dumped them at the counter. She spared a few moments glaring some more at herself. Daring herself, challenging herself.

She walked towards the door and opened it, and her eyes landed on Harry who was spread-eagle on the bed, still shirtless, brows furrowed in concentration as he read a brochure provided by the inn. She smiled affectionately.

The affection, within seconds, turned into fierce determination.

"Harry?" she called out, walking towards the foot of the bed.  
"Rosie?" he answered, placing the brochure back into its rightful place before looking up.

At any other time, Rose would have laughed at Harry's reaction at seeing her. He immediately sat up on his elbows, wide-eyed and mouth agape at the sight of Rose opposite him, clad only in her green shirt-blouse and _only _her underthings.

"Looks like I'm ready," she grinned sheepishly as she fiddled with the edges of her blouse.

Harry didn't move, nor did he say anything. He was just plastered there, jaw still slack.

Rose took that as an indicator to continue, so she brought her hands to the buttons of her blouse and began unbuttoning slowly, worrying her lower lip – feeling like she might spontaneously combust under Harry's steady gaze. Harry still didn't do or say anything and it felt as if everything else held their breaths, watching Rose closely until she reached the last of the button.

She shrugged one end of her blouse off slowly, casting a quick glance at Harry, who looked like he might stay there forever.

_Ah, fuck it. _Her inner voice threw caution to the wind and shrugged the other end off before finally dropping to the floor in a pool around her ankles.

_That's half of the progress done._

She stood there, her every bump, crevice and imperfections and flat tyres and cellulites and probably every other unattractive thing she could think of to distract herself from the very fact that Harry could see everything and she was doing nothing to hide it. Suddenly, she found her toenails very fascinating.

She heard a faint rustle of movement ahead of her, and she glanced up.

Harry was in a sitting position already, and she felt her face flame at the pure admiration and desire she could see reflected in those pools of green.

"I knew it," he whispered, almost like he was saying it to himself.  
"What?" Rose harrumphed, unable to hide the panic in her voice as she braced herself for every single bad thing that he could possibly say now.

"You're beautiful," he said reverently. Never once had he looked away from her.

"O-oh, thanks, I, umm," she began awkwardly, and she supposed she should really get on to removing the bra and panties now …

"No!" Harry yelled all of a sudden, effectively stopping Rose's hands from unclasping the bra strap behind.

_Can't be THAT bad, can it?_

Before Rose could shoot him a confused look, Harry scrambled forwards and grabbed both her hands, pulling her to the bed until she was kneeling on it, right in front of him.

"Let me do it," he whispered, before catching her lips with his again. Rose had no qualms about it as his hands began tracing every curve and every nook and cranny of her body, making her feel as if they were in a furnace.

She felt his hands slide up her spine before meeting an obstruction, which was the bra – and Harry's hands deftly unhooked it and she felt it come loose. Harry then brought his hands back up to her shoulders, all the while still worshipping her lips with his, before sliding down her arms, bringing the straps down along with them. He caught it in one before throwing it to Merlin-knows-where, and brought one arm around her to manoeuvre her into a supine position on her back. Harry was now nestled comfortably between her legs, and he was tracing his fingertips on every inch of skin he came in contact with, and he began venturing lower, and lower … and lower … until he found the last bit of insolent clothing on Rose. He paused for a moment, and Rose squeezed his hands slightly in a silent bid to make him take it off.

He conceded, and hooked both his index fingers on the fabric before pulling them down her legs – also throwing it away to god-knows-where. Harry pulled away from her lips and sat back on his haunches, as if to admire his handiwork.

Rose was fully exposed and blushing furiously at the moment, feeling her blush travel to her neck. Harry was watching her so intently that she reflexively brought a hand to cover her burning face, but Harry grabbed it and gently brought it to the side of her head.

"Don't," he cooed, "Let me see all of you."  
Rose swallowed audibly and groaned, "Well, are you quite done? I'm getting really embarrassed here."  
"Don't need to be," he almost-whispered again, tracing his index finger from her chest down to her navel, "So very beautiful."

"When do I get my turn to see all of you?" Rose countered, to which Harry replied with a cheeky grin.  
"Very soon," he said, lowering himself unto her again.

Harry, Rose decided, was an absolute fucking tease. She didn't know how long he meant his 'very soon' to be, or how long she had to endure such sweet torture from Harry's lips and hands before she cried out in frustration.

He had kissed and licked every part he could get his hands and lips on – her neck, her jaw, her chest, her stomach, her thighs, her ankles – and Rose almost kicked him in the head for what he was doing to her but decided against it, and resorted to growling instead, with her eyes teary with vexation.

Harry kissed her stray tear away, but Rose only responded by dragging her nails down his arms.

"Harry, please," she said breathlessly.  
"Please what, baby?" He whispered – and Rose could feel his grin - while tracing her jaw with his nose.  
"_Please_," she groaned, lifting her hips to meet his and was rewarded with a muffled sound from Harry's throat.

That seemed to spur Harry on, and they made quick work of his trousers – only stopping because Rose insisted he wanted to '_look at all of him' _before he was positioned at her entrance.

If it had hurt, Rose wouldn't have noticed – she was too lost, too lost in the sensation, too lost in the knowledge of what they were doing, _too lost in Harry_.

Once he was fully sheathed in her, Rose felt his muscles in his shoulders and back quiver under her hands, in an effort to keep still.  
"If it hurts," Harry said, lips grazing hers whenever they formed words, "tell me, and I'll stop."  
Rose arched into him as he began to move, wrapping her legs tighter around Harry to keep him locked in place.

"No," she gasped, "Never stop."

That night, they were wrapped in each other's arms, even in post-coital bliss and when sleep began to take over them.

Rose was tracing Harry's nose with her finger again, making Harry's eyes flutter close every now and then, he was dangerously close to falling asleep.

"Rosie," Harry whispered, eyes opening to gaze at hers.  
"Darling?" she responded.  
"I love you," he grinned his Harry-grin.  
"I love you too," she smiled as she began to trace his nose and eyebrows, watching as Harry fell into deep slumber.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

**HARRY POTTER DISCUSSES LIFE, LOVE AND WORK**

… _was thinking of joining the Aurors, it's what I've always wanted to do," said Potter._

_When asked about his love life though, Potter seemed adamant on keeping quiet, shaking his head, laughing and brushing it off with a nonchalant, 'that's private!'. While our poor interviewer begged to at least answer one question, which was "Name two things that you love the most in this world", Potter finally relented. At this time, he glanced behind us, at his other half who was perched with his friends at their weekly Sunday gathering, chattering away with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. He smiled affectionately at her before turning his gaze back to our interviewer, and responded with a, "Her big, umm, heart and treacle tarts."_

**FIN!**

**Thank you for the read and the lovely reviews!**

**And to those **_**well-endowed**_** women out there, you know who you are – whatever happens and whatever anyone says, remember this: you are beautiful and amazing just the way you are. Don't let anything or anyone sway that. **

"**To all the girls that think you're fat because you're not a size zero, you're the beautiful one, its society who's ugly." – Marilyn Monroe**

**Be happy, be merry. Life's too short to fret about these things!**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

**Credits to Si Abang Tipah for accompanying me through the love scene-writing, God knows how giggly I get when writing such scenes. Xx. :3**


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